Once Upon A Dream
by Grace Lacey
Summary: 25 year old Bella Swan wakes up one morning after having a dream of what could hopefully be her future. Watch Bella on her journey to fulfill her dream and land her dream guy. ExB
1. Prologue

Prologue

I woke up this morning after having one of the strangest most magnificent dreams ever. It was of a little girl and I, Sophie, I called her, playing in a meadow. She couldn't have been more than 2 or 3. She had little white wild flowers in her gorgeous bronze coloured ringlets, and wore a dusty blue dress. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. She had soft emerald green eyes, opposite to the dull brown that I myself had, a trait that she must have inherited from her father. She had the most infectious laugh and looked like me when I was that age. "Momma", she called me. I was euphoric. I had never been more happy than when I heard her utter than one simple word.

My name is Isabella Swan, Bella, for short. I'm 25 years old and work as a junior editor at Harper Collins Publishing Company. I haven't had a serious relationship since I broke up with my boyfriend, Mike, 2 ½ years ago in university. And no, I do not have a child. Sophie was just a dream that I find myself desperately wishing was reality.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

On the way out of my building this morning, a gorgeous man that looked to be around my age, held the door open for me. Here I was convinced chivalry was dead and 'Sex-On-Legs' had proved me wrong. There seems to be hope for mankind. This mystery man had a strange cooper colour hair in such a disarray that could only be described as 'sex hair', and the most intoxicating emerald green eyes. He had to be the most dazzling man that I had ever laid eyes on. I thanked the man with a warm smile and bowed my head when I felt the familiar warmth of a blush spreading across my cheeks. I never thought that I would see him again. I, however, was horribly wrong.

I was heading to my car in the parking garage, my thoughts filled with the mystery man and my hands full of a story I was currently editing, when I tripped and nearly fell into a muddy puddle. I was preparing myself for the fall, mentally raiding my closet thinking of what I would change into, Alice would kill me she had picked out the 'perfect' outfit for me today, and praying that I would have time for my morning coffee without being late for work, I could not be expected to be pleasant and greet our new co-worker this morning until I had my morning coffee. So to say I was surprised when I did not feel the hard concrete underneath me, but strong yet soft arms of my mystery man, would be an understatement. I was not even aware that someone was near me, I was that lost in thought.

I could not explain the way my body felt in his arms. There were no sparks, or little bolts of electricity that you usually feel when you are in the arms the most gorgeous creature alive. Instead there was a fire. A full-blown forest fire. My body was reacting in ways that I had never thought possible. I was euphoric; it felt as if I was in heaven. I felt so safe, even though I had never met this Greek God and only saw him for the first time today, in my life.

He held me longer than necessary, both of us staring deeply into one and others eyes. His magnificent emerald green eyes were currently looking deep into my boring brown eyes and me into his beautiful green ones. Neither of us said a word, just staring contently into the others eyes. We were rudely, if I do say so my self, brought back to reality when an ignorant driver starting pounding onto his horn. Had he not noticed that we were in the middle of something extraordinary, something that I was sure would never happen again? He grabbed my bag from the ground and moved us to the side of the garage.

"Edward," God even his voice was perfect. It was like velvet, and made my panties wet.

"Edward Cullen." So mystery man had a name. It was old-fashioned, and fit him perfectly. It was beautiful, just like him. He stuck his hand out to greet me properly. Apparently holding a woman for god knows how long and starring incessantly into her eyes was not the way normal people greet one another when they meet for the first time.

"Bella Swan." I replied lamely, shaking his hand.

"It suits you." Edward said.

I was confused to say the least. What suited me? My outfit? I hoped it did, Alice, one of my best friends and roommate, picked it out for me and the fashion guru would kill anyone who doubted her expertise.

Noticing my confused expression he elaborated.

"Your name, Bella means beautiful in Italian, it suits you."

Sex God say what? I was wrong, this man was not perfect. He was blind. He had to have been to think that I was beautiful. I am not, nor have I ever been beautiful. I honestly think my parents were high when they named me. They were teenagers when I was born. Teenagers do stupid things, like get high and name their daughter something that means 'beautiful' when she so obviously is not.

I thanked him for saving me, said goodbye and was on my way to Starbucks for my latte. Once again, I thought I would never see him again, and once again, I was wrong.

I pulled up to the Starbucks closest to my office and ordered my usual, a triple grande Vanilla latte. The creepy guy taking my order, James his nametag read, was flirting with me and making sexual references. It was times like these when I thought that there was no hope for me and considered turning lesbian, but I just could not imagine myself with a woman. Maybe when I was really drunk and horny, I would make out with a girl(Spring break '04 in Cabo Alice, Rose and I got really drunk and decided to experiment with each other. It was interesting to say the least.) But not sober. I have nothing against lesbians; I just have no desire to join their lifestyle. As Rose would say, 'I like penis too much.'

I was waiting for my order when I heard _his_ voice. No, not _his_ voice, I just meant the man for gods sake, I would NOT know what his voice sounded like this soon after meeting him. It was just wishful thinking. I was day-dreaming about him and my sub-conscience was playing tricks on me. I wanted to see him again; therefore I thought that I was hearing his voice when I so clearly was not.

However, my first instincts were correct. How I found out, you might ask? Well, the barista had just called my order and as I was reaching for my latté _he_walked up behind me. I was not aware that it was him until I turned around as he was pulling back his drink and his -as well as mine- spilt all over the both of us. I started apologizing immediately, if it hadn't been for my klutz tendencies neither of us would be in this current predicament. Surprisingly he had just laughed it off and told me it was no problem.

Unlike other guys -even girls for that matter- he did not totally freak out, he was calm, serene and _laughed_ if off. He did not once complain and told me to stop apologizing, it was neither of our faults and if anyone should take the blame it was to be him, if he hadn't stepped behind me we would have avoided this situation completely. He even offered to drive me back to our apartment building because we would both have to change. Luckily because of my earlier stumble I had already thought of what I was going to change into and it wouldn't take me that long, so I wouldn't make him later than he already was for work.

**************

Aro was going to kill me. That was the only thing running though my head on the drive to work. Not '_the most gorgeous man ever created is sitting right beside me'_or '_damn it, I should have packed those extra panties, cause these are already soaked through.'_No, not those -even though they were true- it was my boss is going to totally kill me.

We had a new co-worker starting today whom was good friends with Aro, so we were to be on time and show what a good team we were and that we were lucky to have him come to our publishing house considering he had many other, better, although Aro would never admit anyone was better than him, companies offering him a job. Apparently we were to treat this man like a god. Not going to happen. Just because this 'literary genius' was going to be _gracing_ us with him presence, did not mean that I had to treat him like he was any better than the rest of us.

When we arrived he offered to walk me to my desk. When I politely declined stating that he probably had to get to work he replied with "Nonsense, I was headed to the same place you are."

Despite the obvious give-away, I was completely surprised when Aro welcomed Edward with open arms saying how glad he was to have him here. Everything seemed to click into place. _Edward_was the new guy that Aro had held with such high regard. _Edward_ was the guy that we were to treat like royalty.

_Oh my god, __**Edward**_ _was the new guy!_

Despite Edward being the new guy that I had to suck up to, he was also the _gorgeous, sweet, caring, polite, the list could go on_, neighbor that I had embarrassed myself in front of countless times in the 1 ½ hours that I've known him for. He also got me out of trouble with Aro for being late claiming that it was his entire fault even though it wasn't.

Aro, unlike Edward who was a Greek god and the sweetest man you would ever meet, is the reincarnation of Satan. He is illogical, selfish, demanding, and conniving. All he cares about is publishing the next 'New York Times Best Seller' not giving a second thought to the consequences this might have for other people. As long as he is on top or at the top of the _best seller_list for even a week, Aro is a _happy_ man. Happy meaning only satisfied and pleasant for 2 seconds. Once the 'pride' wears off and the stick gets shoved back up his ass he is back to the ungrateful prick that he is. For reasons unknown to me, Aro was Edwards mentor. From what I could gather from Jessica Stanley, the office gossip, was that Aro and Edwards's father were old friends and Aro helped Edward get into and established in this business.

Edward, like myself, is a Junior Editor. Unlike me, he is perfect. He is one of the best copy editors in Seattle, and has edited some of the most renowned books in the past 5 years. He comes from a very wealthy family, his father, Dr. Carlisle Cullen, a world renowned surgeon, and his mother, Esme Cullen, a well-known interior decorator.

I come from the rainiest town in the Olympic Peninsula, Forks, Washington. My father is the chief of police, and my mother a kindergarten teacher at Forks Elementary. And although I am not poor, I am not _very wealthy_either.

I grew up with my two best friends, who are now my roommates, Rose and Alice. Rose is like a supermodel, long blonde hair, legs for miles, and drop dead gorgeous. Despite her supermodel looks, Rose is a mechanic, the best in the Greater Seattle Area.

In high school all the guys went after her like bees to honey. Being the tease that she is held a contest for all the guys, who could impress her the most. The prize; a date with Rose. She insists she was inspired by '_Win A Date With Tad Hamilton'__ ,_I personally think that they were inspired by her, and that she was doing the boys a Forks a great service by offering a date with her, but Alice and I knew that it was only a way for her to get more attention. She was an attention whore, still is, but more-so when we were in high school and university. No one ever won the contest, at graduation she told all the boys that none of them had succeeded in gaining her attention. I swear to god all the boys in Washington cried that day.

Alice is my pixie. She is a fireball of energy. Alice has a great love of shopping. When we were 12 we were talking about our dream homes. I said an old English manor from the 15th -18th century; Rose said a large apartment on the Upper East Side in Manhattan and Alice said the Mall of America. She loves shopping so much that it is her job. She is a personal shopper for the rich and famous and is the head buyer for Bergdorf's. She claims that she can see the future, well not see exactly, but she can just sense when something big is going to happen. In our 25 years of friendship, Rose and I learned to never bet against Alice. Her _feelings_may make her sound like a lunatic, but generally she is correct.

Despite all our differences, we are the best of friends, have been since we were 3 and forever will be. So when I came home drained, the girls instantly knew something was up. Curious as to why I seemed to be in such a good, yet bad mood, they took it upon themselves to find out all they could about my day. After reliving the story of my day from the moment I walked out the front door to when I walked back in, I went to take a long hot shower. Not ready for the hurricane that is Rosalie and Alice when I mention the slightest interest in someone, I went straight to, saving everything for another day. That other day, being first thing tomorrow morning.


End file.
